RWBY: The New Hunt
by Doomsdayguy12345
Summary: Predators were often times considered the best hunters in the universe, not many creatures could challenge them on that. So being accepted into a clan like the Dark Blade Clan and being human must mean two things: You are honorable, and good at killing. What shall happen when a millennia old Clan War comes to the world of Bloody Evolution? Perhaps Extinction instead.
1. Chapter 1

Space.

To Mankind it was known as the final frontier, endless possibilities lie ahead of an endless void filled with many new worlds, some lifeless, others with their own thriving ecosystems. Ripe for colonization, for the expansion of industry and exploration, a grand dream for greatness.

One thing they weren't expecting however was that they were most certainly not alone in the universe, and that dream, would turn into a nightmare.

For little over a century now the existence of the Xenomorph, a race of parasites that bring destruction and death wherever they go. Reproduction exclusive to a Queen breed that lays large eggs occupied by a "Facehugger", that then forcibly implants an embryo into another living creature that will house the embryo until it violently bursts from the chest cavity, killing the host but also releasing a near perfect killer.

Their only natural enemy is the perfect killer.

The Predators.

A much more intelligent and advanced race of seven foot tall bi pedal humanoids, arthropod-like mandibles but also akin to reptiles by the nature of their skin, dreadlock style hair, and massive muscle mass. Not only are they physically imposing, but their mastery of Faster Than Light technology (FTL) allowed them to travel the greatest of distances, voyages that would've seen twenty generation pass before being completed, all being done in the time it takes to drive one hundred miles.

With great technology came even greater weapons, using a variety of plasma based cannons and rifles to secure themselves as a dominant military power in the darkness of space. However, they also appreciated the classics; spears, swords, axes, wrist blades, and their own physical strength.

The thing that holds the Predator (Hish, Yautja) society together is their most primal urge to hunt prey, a whole code of honor dedicated to an honor sporting hunt. Their prey had to be an equal to them; cunning, strong, and deadly. They needed to be old enough, healthy enough to fend for themselves against the Yautja.

As long as the Yautja followed their code, they'd be honorable members of society. Some however either strayed from the code or intentionally broke it, they are deemed "Bad Bloods" and are usually dealt with swiftly. Unfortunately a clan long since thought destroyed as reemerged, the Killers Clan. This clan trained the mighty Xenomorph's to be their hunting and attack dogs, effectively making themselves not only a grave threat to Yautja Civilization, but also to Humanity itself.

* * *

In the vastness of space one could see an uncountable number of stars and a suffocating amount of darkness. Stars and worlds would fly by as a dark ship made its way through the insides of the Alpha Centuri System, the ship was dark but not as dark as the vacuum of space, its outsides was smooth and very sleek, if it were to be hit by water then the water would just slide off of the ship's bulbous head.

Most defiantly not a ship of Man, but a ship of the Yautja.

However this ship's destiny was not that of another glorious hunt to break in a Youngblood, or a leisure hunt for a seasoned veteran, no. This was an extermination mission.

The ship slowed its speed as it approached a dark world with gray skies, down below if your were looking at the right spot at the right time you'd see lights on what was barely even a fraction of the planet, only these lights were not the usual glow of synthetic light used to mark a civilizations growth.

They were the fires marking the death of a colony.

Onboard the ship a massive screen displayed trails made in space by the spacecraft that travel to and from the planet, the trail they had been hunting lead them to this world.

A Predator walked through the halls of the ship, his armor was more than that of a typical Hunter's marking his rank; he had an ornate older mask, an heirloom from his clan, armor that better covered his chest but still left more than enough room for him to flexible, the armor was made from a light but incredibly tough metal.

Two skulls adorned his right and left shoulder, both Human, one helmeted like a Roman Legionnaire, the other one had a Russian styled helmet, presumably Cold War era. His arms held two wrist blades, a Glaive spear sat in the small of his back, a Maul resting on his side. To top it all off he had two plasma shoulder cannons folded on his back.

This was not your average Hunter, he was a Master Hunter, an Exterminator sent to rid the Bad Bloods of their miserable honorvoid existence.

As this Exterminator made his way to the drop pods he reviewed the data collected about the planetoid surface…

Number of Dead Humans: 500 in estimation, unknown number of Humans beforehand.

Number of Dead Serpents: 139 in estimation making sure they were dead was a priority.

Number of Dead Hish: 15 Bad Bloods, 3 Killers Clan Initiates.

Mission status: Drop unto planet, make sure everything is dead, destroy evidence, continue hunt for Bad bloods.

This was the tenth Human Colony in five months, they were starting to take notice, and these recent attacks have made things for the Hunters very difficult. Their prey was already aware of their presence in the universe, but because of these attacks they have been much more… careful so to speak, and the Elders on Yautja Prime have called out one of their greatest warriors out of retirement; who personally destroyed ten Hives, fifteen Queens, and has collected well over twenty thousand trophies during his time.

His name was Damocles, a name he forged during the Roman Empire Reign on Earth. He went by that name because it had a certain ring to it after learning its translation from human writings, it had been so long since anyone called him by his birth name that even the Elders forgot it, so Damocles he was called.

Damocles was honored by the Elder Council's decision, retirement was boring even with the affections of all the females he could want, but no thrill was like that of the Hunt, it was only natural.

This mission however he would not go alone, for the millennia he has lived through he had only bothered to father one son, Theron, a Hish of similar stature but still young by Hish standards.

He was barely five hundred years old.

In the pod bay did his son wait for him ever so patiently; adorned in his Hunting armor, crafted similar to his father's, a human skull stuck upon a spike on his left shoulder, a rabbit's foot hanging from his belt, on wrist blade gauntlet, Glaive spear on the small of his back, a plasma cannon on his left shoulder, and a Smart Disk resting in a holster.

Theron fell to a knee crossing his right hand over his chest, "Father."

Damocles motioned him to rise, "Keep your wits sharp as you'd keep your blade. Never underestimate the Bad Blood, they are as crafty as you or I and are as dangerous as the Serpents. Your head will be on a swivel."

To an outside human audience this conversation would've sounded like a whole lot of clicking and low growling.

"I will serve the clan honorably, and bring you honor. Father." Theron said bowing slightly forward with his arm still over his chest.

Damocles chuckled heartily, "You overdramatize things Theron."

Theron himself chuckled lowly, getting himself settled in his own pod, "It is not every day you go on a hunt with a Legendary Hunter."

"It isn't every day that we must kill those that have strayed from the honorable path either." Damocles said softly from their shared comm link.

* * *

The descent to the planet was quick, it was like being a missile, a missile that slowed down before hitting the intended target but a missile either way.

Theron cloaked himself before leaping from his pod onto a destroyed aircraft belonging to the Colonists, plasma burns suggested that it was shot down by the Bad Bloods, there were no signs that the inhabitants survived their crash, most of the damn ship was buried anyhow.

Conducting a brief scan of the area around the drop site showed the young Yautja the brutal measures the Bad Bloods went when it came to killing without honor, most of the ships lying about weren't even capable of firing back, everything suggested that they were mere passenger ships.

"How disgusting," Theron nodded, "They treat our prey with no respect."

Damocles switched to a spectrum referred to as 'Human Spectrum' and observed the field from what would've been their view; over the years he had purposefully learned the language of his prey, a difficult task as the language would develop more and create subvariations of the old tongue he heard in the days of the Golden Eagle.

Gently moving some rubbish out of the way he read the words printed on the hull of a ship, "Medical Transport." He growled lowly, it was a very well-known fact that the weak were to be excluded from the Hunt, the only acception being if they could still fight effectively. Yet when he examined the dead inside the ship's hull… he roared in anger.

Not a single one inside the ship would've been able to defend themselves; mere pregnant women, elderly, and young children were the occupants. All as cold as the hearts that beat in the chests of Bad Blood Yautja.

"Cowards!" Damocles shouted smashing a dead Android, he breathed heavily remembering the sights he had seen from previous sites the Bad Bloods struck, this had to the worst to date.

Theron peered inside the ship seeing all his father saw, "There is truly no way of repentance for the Bad Bloods now, this is unforgivable."

Damocles stormed out of the ship and glared at the burning Colony, "We must find them, their deaths will slow!"

* * *

The inside of the Colony fared no better.

Death was prevalent through the streets, civilians and Colonial Marines littered the ground only it wasn't just regular Marines that were on the ground. They had similar uniforms, only tattered and worn, the words 'Renegades' were scratched or painted on the chest pieces. Pulse round holes emptied their blood.

"It appears they have their own Bad Bloods." Theron said flipping one of the dead men over, his face wasn't entirely there, thanks to a shotgun.

Damocles nodded, moving the hands of a fallen woman over her chest respectfully, "Humans have always had a habit of killing themselves, don't think of them any less, there was a time where even we couldn't control our urge to kill."

Theron looked to his father, then to the damage, "We used to have wars like them, long before even I was alive. Our kind suck together because of the Hunter's code, never think of the Humans as less than us. We wouldn't hunt them if they truly were below us."

After observing the massacre more thoroughly, he was confused. These Renegades as it seems were attacking the Colonists at the same time the Bad Bloods arrived, none of them had any plasma or blade based wounds, not a single one of them was mauled by a Serpent either.

This discovery shook him to the rage filled core, two cowardly traitor groups band together for piracy! By the Gods this was outrageous!

"Aaahhh!" Both Predators looked to each other before they started off in the direction cloaked, wrist blades at the ready.

* * *

Cheering and hollering came from their direction, "Aaah, you little shit!" A loud smack, flesh against flesh was heard, making both Hunters raise a brow.

Silently the stalked upon several of the Renegades in a circle, they were cheering in a small circle.

Theron stealthily jumped up to the rafters of the Cafeteria room, what he saw interested but in-raged him.

Inside the small circle a man, obviously a veteran Renegade was clutching his eye, sneering angrily at a boy that lied on the ground holding his cheek.

"I'm going to beat your ass so hard," The larger man said cracking his knuckles, "you're going to wish those big ugly motherfuckers killed you with your fucking family!"

He lunged with his leg posed ready to stomp on the boys chest, Theron was about to intervene until his father stopped him, "Wait."

As the boot came down ready to crush the child's chest, he rolled to the left, sent his right heel forward right into the larger man's crotch.

"FUCK!" The man roared falling forward; right into the boy's second kick, this time to his throat in a sickening crunch, "Uck!"

The Renegade fell to the ground twitching, choking on his collapsed Larynx, the boy rose from the ground and started stomping the man directly on his nose, breaking it directly into his brain.

With a bit of strain he raised his hands in a boxer stance, waiting for the next "man" to jump into the ring.

"He fucking killed him, that little bastard!" A soldier with aviator goggles snarled, he jumped into the ring with a lead pipe, "Alright you little shit, time to learn ya a bit."

The boy stared straight at him, hatred in his eyes, bared bloody teeth, his stance hadn't changed even when the man charged with the pipe raised to strike.

Damocles watched with interest, the Human boy was not letting up as easily as most of his kind would have; he had apparently been fighting tooth and nail against his obviously stronger opponents for a long time.

When the lead pipe came down the boy side stepped his left foot out and spun underneath the man's guard, in a flash the boy stomped harshly to the back of the man's knee, making him scream out in pain. The Renegade soldier swung his pipe backwards, missing the boy and exposing his shoulder, just as the boy planned on him doing.

With all of his strength the boy wrapped his arms around the man's elbow and pushed his foot as hard as humanly possible at the joint in the shoulder, dislocating it, sending its owner to the floor in pain.

Unluckily for the Renegade, it wasn't over for him just yet.

Arming himself with the discarded pipe, the boy began mercilessly smashing the pipes end into the man's skull until all that was left was mushy brains and bone.

"I've had enough of this," The Officer looking man of the group said upholstering his pistol, "We've wasted enough ti- ack!"

The Officer wasn't the only one sick of the charade, Damocles saw all that he needed.

Spasming from the sudden backstab the man in the Officer's uniform barely had any time to scream in pain as the other hand of his attacker ripped his head off in a swift motion, shutting off his lights.

Theron fell from the rafters uncloaked, landing on top of one of the Renegades crushing him into paste. With his spear in hand he decapitated one man while slashing his friend's face into thirds with the wrist blades.

The last of the men fared no better as the two Predators bisected them with lighting precision, no mercy is spared on the merciless.

Damocles himself put an end to the last sniveling coward, pulling his head apart with his wrist blades like how one would tear open a piece of paper.

With all of their enemies dead all that was left was the boy, who had stood and watched the slaughter.

Stepping heavily on the metal floor Damocles stood five feet away from the boy; normally even the largest of men would be cowering or trembling in some way, but not him, not this child.

He could see it in his eyes, hatred, enough hatred to fuel a thousand angry hearts, hatred that could only be forged through intense grief and pain.

It took Damocles a few seconds to piece together what he wanted to say to the child, "Good fighting," Came his first typed message, "Put it down."

The child sneered raising the pipe in challenge, a brave little bugger.

"No harm, friend, no harm." Damocles tried again, the boy didn't budge, he only tightened his stance.

In an unprovoked motion the boy launched himself forward swinging the pipe, only to find a very strong had stop his strike and raise him into the air up to the owner's eye level.

"Stupid move." Damocles tightened his grip around the pipe, crushing its body like an empty Coke can.

Out of defiance the boy kicked both of his legs forward, hitting Damocles in concrete hard abs, sending himself skidding across the bloody floor.

Theron shook his head looking down at the child, "Stubborn boy."

"Yes, a very admirable trait."

Damocles looked upon the boy with merciful eyes, he had seen a thousand children like this one, lost and angry, stuck in survival mode to cope with their losses; but this also brought out what he loved most about Humanity.

It's undeniable stubbornness.

Though it seemed like the boy wasn't getting up again, he tried in vain as his wounds started to take their toll and slow his movements.

"Theron," His son looked towards him, "Call in a ship. We're done here, and this boy is coming with us."

"What?"

"You've seen what he is capable of, and look, "Damocles pointed to what looked like a treated acid burns and claw marks on the boys back, "he has fought the Serpents, he is more than worthy of becoming an Apprentice for our clan."

Theron seemed to have thought this over for a moment before nodding, "As you request Father."

Damocles patted his son's shoulder before turning his attention to the unconscious boy, 'Welcome to the Dark Blade Clan boy.'

* * *

BAM! Alright, I'm a huge AVP fan, especially when it comes to the Predator portion. I picked my favorite clan from Predator: Concrete Jungle and put them into the mix of this AVP crossover. Now I know you'll have many questions... I don't intend on answering them, the story will do that for me, in no way whatsoever am I stopping the Death Korps of RWBY so don't have a conniption, the Walking Death Korps will also receive an update more frequently because if I'm not mistaking my first story is having itself a one year anniversary! So that means an over hall of some of the first chapters because I don't like how I originally wrote them. Don't have kittens everybody I just wanted to get this idea out there before I get totally engrossed by it mentally.

Doomsdayguy out!


	2. Chapter 2

The boy woke with a gasp, his body felt like he was sent through the wringer, which wasn't too far from the truth.

A pain filled spasm made him gasp harder; his muscles were weak and torn, dehydration wasn't helping remedy his body either, his mouth felt dry and his lips felt cracked. He breathed heavily, using his mental strength to try and block out the pain the best he can.

"Bastards…" His body may have been filled with pain, but his mind was still concentrated on their faces, those traitors, those cowards.

"…kill all of you… every single one!" Opening his eyes slowly the boy took in his surroundings, "Ah fuck me…"

Out of all of the damn places, it was one of their ships.

The Yautja.

"How di- that big guy," With strained effort he inhaled and exhale desperately fast to sit up, to get a better view of his surroundings in his alien environment. No pun intended.

"Good, you're awake." Came an eerily robotic voice.

The Boy's eyes widened considerably as he frantically, "Where are you? I k-know you can understand me." He grunted holding his side.

The air started to shimmer beside him, almost like a television screen with a bad signal was manifesting a hulking monster of evolutionary superiority clad in the skulls of his prey and the armor befitting of a champion.

The Yautja regarded the child with a tilted head, as if assessing his reaction; after growling softly for a moment the large humanoid began typing into his wrist gauntlet, "Do you have a name?"

'That voice.' Aaron thought staring at the large Yautja, "You can translate English?"

The Predator growled louder, "Name."

"Not very patient are you? My name's Aaron Aiken."

"Damocles is what your kind called me," The newly named Damocles (what a badass) gestured, "My son Theron."

Another Yautja appeared, his armor was fashioned very similarly to his "Father's" although less extravagant in its designs, with only one skull upon his shoulder, he seemed to be only a little bit shorter than Damocles.

Aaron regarded the silent Yautja with a nod before turning his attention back to Damocles, "What do- do you want with me? You could've just left me."

Damocles nodded his head to the side twice, instead of typing into his wrist gauntlet he started unlatching and unplugging his bio-masks environment regulator ports. With reverence to his mask Damocles took it off at a gentle pace.

Aaron's heart started to thump in his chest, he had never actually seen the Yautja without their masks on, the only times he did was during the Alien Anatomy class back on his colony, at least before the school was burnt to the ground.

Damocles looked at the boy with his yellow eyes and spoke to him with a deep reptilian voice, "You are fighter, you kill like warrior, honor in your blood. Your clan, dead."

Aaron blinked biting his lip looking down, but Damocles raised his head back up with a clawed hand, "New clan, you part of Dark Blade now, you will be Hunter."

"Me? I-I thought, I didn't know you recruited humans."

"Humans must be honorable, strong, fierce like Yautja Hunters. You will be a Young Blood." Damocles typed into his gauntlet and a hologram of the colony's security footage appeared.

"Bad Bloods…" Damocles growled pointing to the dark armored Yautja traitors slaughtering the civilians, "…have no honor."

Aaron sneered at the recorded monsters, he remembered watching them slaughter the security detail, his father included.

"Bad humans…" Damocles now pointed at a man in Marine armor, they only things that set this man apart from the others was his beret and large over coat, on his flank was an intimidating Yautja standing well over nine feet tall with four arms, "… less honor, murders."

Aaron remembered those two quite well; he had seen the man's face before on a wanted poster online, the man was wanted for some of the most heinous crimes committed in space, his bounty alone would've bought a man a whole planet.

His name was Colonel Alexsander Reinhart, leader of the Colonial Marine battalion, the "Mongols". His crimes were treason against the Human Fold, by trying to make his own sovereign city-state under his totalitarian regime; he tried to gain more followers but was quickly defeated by the Colonial Marines and the Weyland Yutani Security Forces before anyone else could join his madness.

A court decided he was to be executed, but he escaped his sentenced by the remnants of his marines and became little more than a space pirate. Only now it seems like a pact has been made between criminals of two different races.

"You," Damocles pointed to Aaron, "you will take vengeance, kill them all."

Aaron tried to leave the bed but Theron stopped him, "Rest now, vengeance later."

He grunted as a fresh wave of pain hit him, with some care Aaron managed to lay himself back down, but still being able to look at the two Yautja, "Reinhart's head is mine, do you understand?"

"Yes." Damocles hissed putting his mask back over his face, "Rest now."

* * *

Two years later… Aaron's age: 16

For a mere two years Aaron had lived amongst the Yautja Dark Blade Clan, at first the Yautja of the Clan were skeptical of having a human child raised within their ranks, for he was paled near death and small.

Fate however seemed to favor him.

Not a whole lot of research was conducted on the food of the Yautja, almost no one knew what sort of consequences or benefits would befall a child within his pubescent age after being exposed to Yautja food and atmosphere for an extended amount of time.

Miraculously the food seemed to increase his muscle density and his bone structure. At the age of sixteen he was six foot two, weighed two hundred pounds and had the muscular body of a Colonial Marine. The unique food plus the training supervised by Damocles has made this "child" more than capable of handling himself.

From the brink of death, to the picture of strength….

* * *

Aaron's eyes scanned the treeline… well, his bio-mask's visor scanned the treeline if you want to get technical about- getting off topic!

Anyway, his eyes scanned the treeline through different spectrums of heat; he had taken a great amount of time training with Theron these last few years, they were "Clan Brothers" as Damocles had put it, meaning they would watch each other's backs as partners for as long as they would hunt together.

Usually Yautja would hunt alone, unless Clan members arranged a trip where they would hunt together, rate each other's kills on an expedition. Sometimes they'd even take bets for fun.

But right now it was not your average hunt; they were playing a game of hide and go seek.

"Where are you? You big lizard man mother fucker?" Aaron whispered to himself crouching low, carefully stepping over large roots and numerous twigs whilst avoiding the swampy water.

Up above however Theron was stealthily climbing across the large tree branches, being careful as not to disturb the leaves in the trees and disclose his location to his human counterpart.

Theron was no liar, when he first saw Aaron he did not think much of him no matter the skill he had shown fighting the Renegades, he by no means disliked Aaron, the fact that the smaller human managed to prove himself time and time again showing natural hunting prowess expected of a Yautja only reinforced his belief in his Father's decision.

The boy was starting to grow on him.

Aaron stopped below, he crouched down and tried using some of the more forensic features of the bio-mask, he went through several different visions that would detect the trails made by animals of different sizes and breeds.

Theron silently repelling done behind him upside down, he managed to hover just above his Clan Brother, ready to scare the living daylights out of him, just as he was ready to roar Aaron suddenly turned a full one hundred eighty degrees with his wrist blades activated.

"Gotcha." Aaron said with a smirk.

Theron tilted his head, "How?"

Aaron chuckled pointing his blades to the ground around them, "This mask can see everything that has walked these past few hours, the body temperatures of the living and dead, but it has nothing against the reflection water provides."

Theron switched to the Human Spectrum and scoffed looking at the water, "The most obvious is sometimes the most dangerous. A basic rule I have forgotten."

"Maybe it's because you are old."

The Yautja back flipped landing feet first onto the swampy terrain, "I'm considered young."

Aaron punched his shoulder, "Then maybe I'm just getting better."

"In your dreams Monkey Man."

"That's a lot coming from you Crabman."

* * *

One year later…

Aaron's crept silently through the hall with his eyes peering around the tight cooridors, Damocles had taught that even with the ability to see the 'Serpents', as the Yautja called the Xenomorphs, it still did not account for creatures hiding behind sharp corners or from the insides of an air vent.

They weren't kidding when they said the Xenomorphs were the ultimate prey, besides Man of course; the reason being is that both races were in all technical terms hunters themselves, not just some measly prey that fed on plants.

Theron had his Glaive unsheathed and poised, ready to lash out and cleave whatever got in the way of him and his Clan Brother. Aaron however had a Yautjan shield raised, and had the equivalent of a Yautjan machete in his right hand.

"Hsssssss…"

Both warriors immediately pressed each other's backs together, the Serpents crawled across the ceiling hissing and snarling with their slimy drool dripping like loose faucets.

"Alright," Aaron muttered tightening his stance and raising his machete, "who's first?"

A Xenomorph answered his taunt with a loud primal serpentine hiss and lunged with its claws forward straight for Aaron.

"At your six!" Aaron called over his shoulder dodging the Xenomorph, the alien however could not change its momentum as it got impaled with Theron's Glaive.

The Predator growled as the Alien's body slid off of his spear.

Typically the acidic blood of a Xenomorph would melt through anything, the weapons the Dark Blade Clan uses however were made of a metal that resisted the bloods acidic nature.

Several cries of anguish filled the hallway from the Xenomorph's kin, within their anguish they charged for the two Clansmen with the primal desire of tearing them limb from limb out of revenge.

"Gotcha." Aaron muttered activating his Plasma Caster, the targeting system in his mask locked onto the closest acid filled bug and the blue plasma began to power up into a charged projectile.

"Bye, bye, Tacohead." A soft ball sized plasma round shot forward blowing a large hole through the black chitin and innards of the Xeno Warrior breed whilst sending its flailing corpse into a wall, melting some of the old sediment slowly.

Theron spun underneath two leaping Xenos, resulting in both aliens smashing into each other in midair and falling onto the ground tangled in their own tails unfortunately for them giving Theron the opportunity to skewer the both of them together in one stab.

The pinned Xenos had little time to scream in pain as the spear that had them bound together was soon removed and promptly used to decapitate the both of them.

Aaron was currently dodging, weaving, and parrying Xenomorhp tails with his shield. During his training with Damocles and Theron he had learned early on that Xenomorphs were crafty little bastards, they'd use their flexible figures and tails to try and get around an object they couldn't hit.

So he had adopted a strategy to be on his heels and keep his shield close to his body so that he would not over extend himself and possibly expose his unarmored sides to the sword-like tail ends of the Xenomorphs.

One Warrior breed got impatient and sent its tail full force towards Aaron's head, but the human boy had been expecting this. In a swift motion Aaron went into the Xeno's guard and lopped its tail in half, he raised the shield slightly to guard himself from any of the blood that might've come his way.

The Warrior breed screamed in horrific pain as most of its tail twitched on the cold temple floor, its screams were however were quickly silenced by Aaron's machete piercing upwards from the Alien's main jaw into its brain, in another fluid motion he pulled his blade free from the beast's head and bisected its head in a backhanded slash.

A shot of blue plasma went right past Aaron's head, "Da fuck Theron?!" He shouted bashing a Xenomorph's head.

Theron roared back at him, holding a Xenomorph in a stranglehold with its own tail, "Behind you asshole!"

Aaron turned his head around and saw three Warrior types welded together with blue plasma slowly melting further into the solid structure, "Oh. Thanks bro!"

Theron growled snapping his Xenomorph victim's neck, "Concentrate on fight!"

Aaron ducked underneath another tail and thrusted his machete forward into the Xenomorph's thorax, "Don't get your panties in a twist!"

Both Clansmen fought in a rehearsed rhythm; back, forward, slash, hack, dodge, jump, slash, back up, etc. Fighting the Serpents at times required more than just some brute strength and chaotic swings or the use of projectile weaponry; fighting the Serpents required you to use all of those techniques in rapid succession, to have a set of moves to execute but to have the same flexibility as the Serpents themselves when it came to fighting.

This was the reason why the Dark Blade Clan had very little casualties in the field; they are just simply better equipped and trained to kill better than anyone else. Hence they were one of the more prominent clans.

*Thump! Thump! Thump!*

"SSSSSSSSSSCCCCCRRRRRR!"

"Oh fuck me sideways." Aaron groaned as a giant Xenomorph was making its way through the old temple's hallway, taking large chunks of it to the ground, "It just has to be a fatfuck!"

Theron roared at the large Xenotype, "Take fight outside!"

Aaron sprinted after his companion like the Devil himself was behind him… well Aaron wasn't too far off on that.

"RAAAAAAAGH!" The massive chitin covered monster screamed crawling after the Clansmen with murder in its… face? Screen face thing? I guess its eyes? Oh well.

As they ran from the large Xenomorph both Theron and Aaron were pulling small discs from their utility belts.

Tripmines.

"Collapse tunnel!" Theron shouted as he slammed one of his mines into a support pillar.

"On it!" Aaron replied slamming one of the saucer like disks on a passing pillar.

The Xeno roared angrily as the first mine blew up to its left, stumbling it slightly and taking down a large chunk of the wall, the next mine to its right made the monstrous Xeno hit its forehead against a low hanging candle chandelier.

"Hahaha!" Aaron chuckled as he slammed another landmine against a passing pillar, the human glanced behind himself to see the large Xeno try picking up its previous pace with the two Clansmen, albeit with a noticeable limp, "This big bitch is getting hurt, let's keep it up!"

Theron snarled barrel rolling out of the way from a falling part of the ceiling, "Temple collapsing! Run fast!"

"Oh shit!" Aaron squeaked as a chunk of the wall nearly squished him, "Ohshitshitshitshitshit!"

The Xeno monstrosity continued to chase the pair even as heavy debris kept on slamming into it, slowly, but surely wearing down the massive beast's stamina.

With the exit in sight the two Clansmen sped their pace up as fast as they possibly could've, pumping their arms and legs to their full extensions, to the point where muscles start to tear and scream in pain.

Aaron and Theron were less than two feet apart running at the same pace, "Almost there!"

Suddenly the Xeno roared launching itself forward, sliding across the ground ruining the ancient temple floors with its massive body, it had its mouth wide open as it tried to chomp down on the two.

Theron jumped forward as the Xeno's jaws snapped near the back of his head, Aaron activated his Plasma Caster and directed it to the Xeno Crusher's face, "Open wide!"

Two large blasts of burning hot plasma were fired into the monster's face, it roared in pain as it reared its head back throwing it hands up to its face to sooth its wounds.

Unfortunately for the Xeno that momentary distraction managed to distract the beast long enough for the falling debris to catch up with it. Fate was not kind to the creature as its death cries were silenced by the large rocks, its remains being swallowed by the temple.

Both Clansmen dolphin dived out of the entry way, followed by a large gust of dust.

"What… the fuck… was that building made out of?" Aaron muttered catching his breathe.

Theron panted sitting up on his knees, "Old… old building… collapse easy…"

"Bullshit, it so should've been able to take a few mines!"

"Stupid monkey man." Theron said pulling Aaron to his feet.

"Crab face."

* * *

Alpha Centari, unoccupied space… Aaron's age: 17

The darkness of space used to terrify Aaron at a younger more tender age, its endlessness and cold unfeeling nature would make him cold just by thinking about it. Being born on the colony he had little to no idea what a real lush planet was like, all he had known was the gray and sharp rocked colony of MayFlower.

The name felt like a joke the first explorers were making for shits and giggles, but it was still home to Aaron. His father worked in security, a Colonial Marine turned into a Weyland Yutani security officer, not really demeaning but not as adventurous as the Colonial Core.

His mother was a geologist studying the planet's soil and tectonic plates, seeing if there were similarities with the structure of the planet's geological structure to that of a lush fertile planet. Unfortunately that meant he'd be stuck on the gray almost life void rock for most of his childhood.

Well, until things changed of course.

But that was in the past, now that he reflects on it he wished he could've stayed there on that damn rock, he wished that those damned scum of Creation had never came to his home, slaughter his friends, burn his home down, and… kill his parents…

* * *

"Aaron! Stay under the bed!" He heard his Father's voice echoed, his fleeting image wearing the same Yutani issued security uniform, with his Pulse Pistol was in his shaking hands. He was afraid.

"Just stay under the bed sweetie we'll be fine, you'll be fine!" Came his Mother's voice followed by her tear filled eyes and trembling lips, she gave him one last kiss before shoving him underneath the bed, carefully pulling the covers down over the edges…

* * *

He wiped a few tears away bringing himself back to reality, he wasn't some frightened little boy any more, no, he was not weak, he was no longer afraid of the darkness of space, the darkness was now afraid of him.

"I'm coming for you Colonel Alexsander, you and your Hish buddy. For the Mayflower, for my family. I will take your head."

"Badger." Aaron turned around to meet Damocles's gaze.

"Of all of the nicknames you could've given me." He chuckled bowing his head to the Master Hunter.

"Do not bow. You are Hunter now." He said patting Aaron's shoulder, "Now, now you have vengeance."

"You mean-"

Damocles nods leading Aaron away from one of the ship's viewing ports and down a hallway, "We found them again, they will not escape again. You kill them all."

"Yes, all of them. How long until we come into contact?"

"Soon, you and my son will take a ship down to the planet they cower on with squad of five. You take no prisoner."

"No, they don't have that privilege." The doors to the control room opened, several Hish were gathered around a hologram projection of a planet.

One of the Yautjan Ship Lieutenants pointed to a settlement marked on the map; a larger image of the settlement came up showing the Clansmen in the room the current destruction on the surface, so far the siege on this particular colony was taking longer than the usual Bad blood blitzkriegs.

Theron bumped Aaron's shoulder, "The Lieutenant says the Bad Bloods and Mongol Renegades fight Marines on this world. Their assault is taking them too long. We strike in the heart of their base."

"Are there any more Marines arriving?"

"Communications offline. Marines are stranded. We avoid them, Renegades and Bad Bloods are prey."

"Right," Aaron nodded his head, "oh how the tables have turned Colonel Reinhart, I hope you put up a good fight."

* * *

Boom shaka laka! Chapter two is out and about! We just saw little old Aaron become a big and strong kickass killing machine! Will he get vengeance? Will he get the closure he has been looking for? Will those traitors die horribly? Maybe.

Also I am working on my other more successful stories, I just realized that I missed the Walking Death Korps anniversary... don't shoot me Grendel, but I've had a case of writer's block and general overall school work and life stuff to do.

Also, this is Aaron's loadout: Biomask, Yautja chest armor and leg gear, Colonial Marine fatigues that Damocles got for Aaron on his old colony, black leather boots reinforced with steel on the outside, Yautja wrist blades, Glaive, Plasma Cannon, Pulse Pistol (his father's) and a few Yautja knives. He also has all of the other cool gadgets any regular Hunter could have.

Now we see how this adventure takes us to Remnant. Till next time!


End file.
